


Doctor Who and the Message from Death

by CanterburyTales



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Conversations, Crossover, Gen, loki doesn't say much, tasertricks just over the horizon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanterburyTales/pseuds/CanterburyTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor delivers a message to Loki. </p><p>Set after <i>Thor - The Dark World</i> (serious spoilers) and before <i>The Day of the Doctor</i>. </p><p>Crossover Doctor Who/MCU!verse. Based on <a href="http://fuckyeahdarcylewis.tumblr.com/post/70080562070/prompt-a-crossover-between-doctor-who-thor-the-doctor">this prompt on Tumblr</a>. Pretty silly. No-one dies. </p><p>Title is an homage to old style Doctor Who titles and the only one I could think of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Who and the Message from Death

They watched as the blue box faded.

“How can anyone tell who is insane when the universe is so crazy?” Erik asked.

 “And that guy is on TV?” Jane’s face was mingled fascination and disbelief.

“Not him, but there’s a show about him. Doctor Who. The stories are totally about this guy.” She exchanged glances with Ian. “Did you know? Did anyone?”

“No,” and Ian’s face was pure disbelief. “I’ve watched it for years. And it's actually real. Unbelievable.”

Thor’s face bore a wide grin. “Think how many other wonders lie out there, waiting for us to discover.” The other four, standing bruised, dirty and tired, looked at him. Then Jane smiled, glad to see some joy break through Thor's grief for his brother. “It’s true. It’s wonderful.”

“But I kinda hope the wonders hold off for a year or two.” Darcy mused aloud. “Or forever, if they’re the ones that want to kill us.”

* * *

The shining spires of Asgard stood serene above the great court. Odin sat on his throne, to all outward appearance as solid and eternal as the city itself. He barely moved as the unfamiliar noise sounded above the hubbub of the court. The dazzling crowd parted as a flicking image appeared among them. One wave of the king’s hand and the guards surrounded the blue box as it solidified and the sound stopped.

The front of the box opened and a tall man stepped out. He was dressed in somber colors, the style of his fitted coat and frivolity of his bowtie belying his worn boots and the tough fabric of his pants. An adventurer rather than a warrior with his foppery his only armor, if the king was any judge. The girl beside him stood half a head shorter, and her dress, dark red with grey threads and an asymmetric skirt, was worn with flat knee-high boots. Both managed to look out of place and absolutely at home at one and the same time.

The man’s gaze scanned the sharp points of the spears directed at him, but he seemed more perplexed than alarmed.  “Ah. Sorry to drop in unannounced but I wanted a bit of a word.  About Loki.”

The king shook his head. “Loki, my son, is dead. We are in mourning.”

The man’s voice came clear and calm across the floor. “Yes, I heard. Thor told me. Very cut up about it.“ He paused, and spoke again. “You must be proud of your sons.”

The king eyed him for a moment, the slight emphasis on the last word not lost on him. Then he stood and made a gesture. “Clear the court.”

The room emptied quickly, curious eyes lingering until the guards closed the doors behind them. The room stood empty, except for the three figures and the blue box. The king came down the steps slowly, Gungnir in hand, his eye fixed on the interlopers as on a foe on the battle field.  The stranger looked around with pleasure and rubbed his hands together.

 “Much better. Now they’re gone, why don’t we get comfortable, put our own faces on, that type of thing.” He took in the grim expression of the king.  “No? Please yourself.”

The king stopped on the bottom step. “Tell me why you are here or I myself will spear you through the heart.”

The stranger shook his head, brows raised. “Not going to work, sorry.” The next words came in a stage whisper. “Have a spare. Be very careful, your majesty. I am more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.”

“Enough!” The king’s eyes glittered cold. “If you have something to say, say it and go.”

The stranger looked slightly pained. “Oh, that’s not very welcoming. I’m the Doctor, by the way. This is Clara.” The girl gave a little wave. “I have a message. From Death. You know Death? She’s definitely mellowed since I saw her last.” Slight concern flitted across his face. “Bit thin mind. Anyway, she’s worried, well, as much as she ever can be. Wanted me to have a word. Pulled me in from another universe to do it.”

The king half turned away, “You are insane.”  

“You say that, in fact a lot of people say that. But when the universe is insane what else can you be? You may not know Death but she knows you.” His face grew stern and his voice rang out in the hall. “She said to tell you that she kept her promise and watched you as you fell. She saw you break on Yggrasil’s roots and mended you. She flicked you from the jaws of the Devourer of Souls and caught the venom from the Spiral Cobras of the Pit. She remade you when the Other carved you like wood and restored you when the Kurse pierced your heart.”

 The king twirled and in a single movement was down the steps. As he moved his appearance blurred, and when he was still he was no longer an old man, but young, taller and black-haired. He stood dressed for battle, a snarl on his face and the point of his spear held against the Doctor’s throat. His voice when it came was the hiss of an enraged viper. “What promise? If she did all this, she is no friend of mine.”

The Doctor did not move. His eyes flicked up to meet the king’s and his voice came, low and filled with warning. “Perhaps, but you really really don’t want to annoy her. “

Clara came forward to stand at the Doctor’s elbow. “If you listen, then we can deliver her message and we’ll be gone. You won’t see us again.”

The king stared at her for an instant, then fixed his glare back on the Doctor. A moment, and he shrugged and lowered his spear. “Very well. “

 The Doctor rocked his head from side to side and started again. “Good. Death says now the deal is done and she will not strike another. She seemed to have gone to some trouble for you. Any idea why?” The closed face of the king provided no answer. The Doctor carried on. “But there’s a problem.  You’re not much of a father.”  

Clara noticed the tightened grip on the spear, the set jaw, the dangerous glint in the kings eyes. She put a hand on the Doctor’s arm but he was in full flow.  

“It’s all new to you, obviously. Understandable, you’re still learning. But you’re going to have to do better. Earth, Midgard you call it? It’s still full of portals after that Convergence event thingy. Like Swiss Cheese. Do you have Swiss Cheese? Had an invasion through one this week. Oblivion Howlers, Thor said. Nasty. Just as well I was there to help.”

The king’s voice was controlled. “Very well. I understand. Be assured that Midgard is as important to me as Asgard is.”

“Oh, stop that!” The Doctor twiddled his fingers. “The tricky tricky with the words. Asgard isn’t important to you either. You not as clever as you think you are.”

Clara’s hand tightened on the Doctor’s arm as the king’s eyes narrowed. The Doctor patted Clara’s hand and carried on.

“Well, you’re young. I know what it’s like.” He looked around at the golden glory with mild disdain. “I sometimes think immorality is wasted on the immortal. They don’t _do_ anything, do they? Most of them? Don’t want anything to change, have such narrow ideas, obsessed with the trivial, even corrupt.“ The disdain was broken by a spasm of pain, quickly smoothed away. “But not of them are like that. And this place is part of you even if you don’t think it is. Believe me, believe me, you’d miss it if it were gone.”

The mask was back on the king’s face but curiosity peeked out, lured by the pain in the Doctor's eyes. “What _are_ you; Death-friend, so-called-Doctor?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Child of a dead planet. Last of the Time Lords.” He gestured behind him. “Mad man in a box.”

“Trickster God,” added Clara. Both turned to look at her. The king raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth turned up. The Doctor simply looked harassed.

“What? Why would you say that?”

Clara shrugged. “Because it’s true. In the tales of many cultures you’ve played the part of a Trickster god. I read River’s thesis.”

Waves of reaction flowed across the Doctor’s face. “You’ve read River’s thesis? What...? How...?” He finally settled on a stern look, fatally undermined by the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “You can’t go reading River’s thesis.”

“Too late.”

The Doctor wagged a finger at her. “We’ll talk about this later. Anyway... “ He swung back around to the king, whose mouth still twisted in a half smile.

“Earth.  I know they seem unimportant – they certainly did to my people. Swarming around with their short lives and chips and television...” His face twisted into mingled shock and disgust. “Your lot have a television programme about me.” He air-quoted. “ _Doctor Who_. How can they have a television programme about me?”

“I thought it was good.” Clara butted in again.

“It wasn’t good.” The Doctor looked positively disturbed. “The man pretending to be me was, well, he looked old.”

Clara pulled a face composed of equal parts disbelief and disapproval. “What’s wrong with looking old? You ARE old.”  

The Doctor shook his head at her. “Don’t say that. Never say that.”

A dry cough interrupted them. The twisted half smile had blossomed into a wide grin of amusement on the king’s face. “Much as I am enjoying this conversation, and believe me nothing so amusing has happened to me in a long time, perhaps you should get to the point. I only live five thousand years.

The Doctor spun back to him. “Yes, of course.” His brow wrinkled. “Five thousand? Poor thing. Anyway, humans. Amazing creatures. Huge capacity for love and hate, for good and bad. And for _invention_. Minds always ticking away. They don’t look it, but they are important. Puny, defenceless but important. Indomitable, but,” he wagged his finger, “not indestructible. I know you think you don’t need them, with your big golden throne and your magic.” He brushed aside Asgard with the back of his hand.  “But you do. You will. And who’s going to protect them in the meantime? In my universe, it's me. I protect the Earth. This one - I know they have your brother and his friends, but they can’t be everywhere.”

The Doctor pointed at the king’s chest and Clara held her breath. “You are the All-Father, you need to do it too. You don’t have to be a helicopter parent, just check in every once in a while. Get them a square meal occasionally, be ready to listen. Close the portals. That kind of thing. “

The king looked down at the finger and looked back into the Doctor’s face, amusement mingling with incredulity. “And Death wished to tell me all that?”

The Doctor held his lapels. “Death wanted to tell you that without Midgard, the universe will fall out of balance. The rest comes from me.”

Loki looked searchingly into the Doctor’s face, concentration sharp in every line. Then he nodded. “Very well. I understand. I will take care.”   

“Good.” The Doctor held out his hand and after a brief hesitation Loki took it.

Clara cleared her throat. “Can we go now? I’ve got that thing.”

The Doctor turned his head. “The thing? Oh, the thing. The work thing.”

“Yes, the school.” She sighed. “Next time I’m late, I’m going to catch the bus.”

“Don’t worry, I'll get you there.” The Doctor gave Loki’s hand one last shake and followed Clara into the blue box. Once inside the door he turned and grinned at the king, who once again was wearing Odin’s shape. 

“Almost forgot. One more thing. One of the humans. Darcy Lewis. Bit of a smart arse, tends to play herself down but underneath it all? Sharp as a tack. Brave. She’s amazing. Watch out for her. “

“Doctor, come ON.” Clara’s voice drifted out the open door and the Doctor vanished. The door started to close then opened. Clara’s head poked out.  

“And she’s a Doctor Who fan.” Her smile vanished behind the closing door. The eerie groaning song of the box started again and it vanished from sight.

The king turned and ascended the steps to his throne. To close the portals was good advice, even if it had not come from Death herself. It was also good advice to secure the crossroads of the Realms. He would set Heimdall to watch Midgard immediately. As for the rest...he did not know what to believe. He needed to learn more about this Doctor.

* * *

It was the week before Christmas. Jane looked up at Darcy putting on her coat. “Where you off to?”

“Down Oxford Street to see the lights with Louis.”

“Who is this Louis?” Erik looked up from the table where he was cutting out newspaper clippings and putting them into a scrapbook.

“Just a guy I met last week.” Her eyes went distant for a moment.

Jane shook her head and smiled. “And what about Ian?”

Darcy shrugged. “Well, we decided that we’re friends.” She squirmed a little as she saw Jane’s eyebrows rise and grin broaden. “It was a heat of the moment thing. I mean he saved my life. That deserves a kiss, right?”  

“I hope you are right. I don’t want you breaking Ian’s heart.” Erik returned to his cuttings.

“Because you have work for him?” Darcy stuck out her tongue as Erik shook his head at her.

"Louis? Is he French?" Jane wanted to know. 

"Yes, you should hear his accent." Darcy threw the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed dramatically. "He's new to London like me so, you know, we're just getting to know London together." 

"You and some gorgeous French guy?" Jane teased. "You're such a humanitarian, Darcy." 

"I know!" said Darcy, eyes wide and innocent. 

“You should bring this man here,” Thor suggested from the couch. 

“So you can ask him his intentions? Thanks, big bro, but no thanks.” She reflected. “Though maybe we could have him over on Christmas evening?”  She grinned and put on her hat. “He’s got no TV and I want him to watch the Christmas special. I’m totally getting him into Doctor Who.“

**Author's Note:**

> The promise Death made is the promise in [this chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1051194/chapters/2106523) of a previous fic (warning - there's a lot of death in the fic, though not in that chapter so much).
> 
> I'm working off the premise that the Eternal called Death in Doctor Who is the same entity as Death in the Marvel universe. The Whoverse Death [ had some run-ins with the Doctor, particularly in audios and books](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eternal_\(Doctor_Who\)). Given the Doctor is a fan of Earth and humans, and is immortal, and was something of an outcast from his own world he's not a bad choice to advocate for Earth. 
> 
> Yes, the Doctor is embarrassed about the thesis. That's what he gets for leaving Clara hanging around a library that time. In MCU!verse Peter Capaldi was the Eleventh Doctor. At the end, yes, Clara knew what she was doing, and the Doctor knew too. Why? Reasons. (I don't really have to say who Louis is, do I?)


End file.
